


letting you lead me towards the deep end

by segmentcalled



Series: bright day will turn to night [5]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Begging, Communication, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Hair-pulling, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Praise Kink, Relationship Negotiation, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 11:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20045236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/segmentcalled/pseuds/segmentcalled
Summary: The picture is a selfie of Brian and Pat. They’re in Pat’s bed; Brian’s holding the phone, clearly shirtless, though only his arms and a bit of his chest are visible. Pat is in the background with a blanket draped over his hips and that’s it, naked waist-up and mid-thigh-down. They’re both looking directly into the camera. Brian is winking, sticking his tongue out, but Pat’s just intense, focused, aware.The next picture is both of them snuggled up together; Pat’s chin rests on Brian’s shoulder.The caption reads:you want in on this?





	letting you lead me towards the deep end

**Author's Note:**

> _it's been my fashion to keep my head dry and get my feet wet_  
_but step by step, i've been letting you lead me towards the deep end._  
_well, i learned my lesson, honey:_  
_just when you think you're all adult swim,_  
_that's precisely when somebody shows you to the ocean_  
\- [aquaman](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VRVgptW7bYg), walk the moon
> 
> POSTCANON CONTENT, BAYBEY!!!!!!

**Snapchat: BDG**  
█ _Tap to Open_

Griffin taps on it, absentmindedly, expecting the fifty seven zillionth tree picture from —

Oh.

Oh, my.

It’s a selfie of Brian and Pat. They’re in Pat’s bed; Brian’s holding the phone, clearly shirtless, though only his arms and a bit of his chest are visible, and Pat is in the background with a blanket draped over his hips and that’s it, naked waist-up and mid-thigh-down. They’re both looking directly into the camera. Brian is winking, sticking his tongue out, but Pat’s just intense, focused, aware.

The next picture is both of them snuggled up together; Pat’s chin rests on Brian’s shoulder.

The caption reads: _you want in on this?_

Griffin shuts his laptop, shoves it in his backpack, and calls Brian.

“Hey, Griffin,” Brian says, smugness absolutely radiating from his voice.

“I’d like you to be explicitly fucking clear about your implications, please,” Griffin says, in lieu of greeting.

“Alright. You’re on speaker. Say hello, Pat.”

“Hello, Pat,” says Pat.

“Awful. Anyway. We were _won-der-ing_ if you’d like to come join us. No strings attached, no romo, whatever you’re up for. We seem to, how’d you put it, Pat? Be mutually thirsty for you.”

“Oh my god,” Griffin says. “What?”

“We’d like you to have sex with us, if you’re interested,” Pat clarifies.

“Jesus,” Griffin breathes. He slings his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll be there in ten.”

He hears delighted laughter from both men on the other end of the line before he hangs up on them and fuckin’ books it.

2:37 PM | Griffin McElroy  
Pat and Brian invited me over for ;) ;) ;) ;) are u cool w that?

2:38 PM | Rachel ♥  
Omg yes have fun!!

Pat has put on some clothes, by the time he opens the door for Griffin and lets him in. Not, uh, not a lot of clothes; he’s wearing a shirt that is _super definitely Brian’s_ because it is a bright orange tank top, and boxers with — oh maybe he shouldn’t stare oops too late they have little Zelda triforces on them oh no that’s so cute.

“Hey,” Pat says, with that practiced-casual little grin, the one he gets when he wants very badly to be cool and chill but hasn’t quite gotten there yet.

“Hey, yourself,” Griffin says.

“Brian’s in the bedroom, he’s _supposed to be putting clothes on, Brian_ —”

“I’m comi-iiing,” Brian’s disembodied voice says from down the hall. “You stole my shirt.”

“Anyway, we, uh, we can talk there if you want. Or out here if you’re more comfortable. Or whatever,” Pat says. His ears are red, and he keeps running his hand through his hair, and he is so cute.

“We can go to your room,” Griffin says. “I’m sure Brian’s been working really hard on arranging himself into the most appealing and sexy pose he possibly can. It would be a shame to waste his work.”

“Don’t call me out like this!” says Brian’s voice.

Pat gives a long-suffering sigh; Griffin grins at him. “C’mon,” Griffin says, and they go.

“You look very cute, Brian. Stop taking up the whole bed,” Griffin says, and Brian pouts. He is sprawled on the bed, wearing only underwear and a black hoodie that he hasn’t even bothered to zip.

“You are incorrigible,” Pat says gruffly, and pushes Brian’s legs out of the way. Brian _siiighs_ and rolls over onto his back, bending his legs at the knee to free up a space for Griffin to sit, which he takes.

“Okay, here’s my ground rules,” Griffin says. “One, if you touch my coat… don’t fuckin’ touch my coat. It’s going to hang on the back of this doorknob and it will not move. Two, uh, actually, that’s pretty much it. I’m more of a top for practicality’s sake, if that’s alright by you.”

“Oh, thank god, we need someone with a clear preference to top,” Pat says. Brian snickers.

“He’s exaggerating,” Brian says. “He likes to bottom but _I_ like to mix it up.”

“That’s also for practicality’s sake, on my part,” Pat grumbles. “We’ve all got our things. I just feel bad that it’s easier for me to bottom but you like to, too.”

“Don’t feel bad, baby,” Brian croons, reaching out to run his fingers over Pat’s thigh. “I like doing whatever you like. We figure it out, don’t we? Plus you’re so friggin’ cute when you’re getting fucked.”

“Jesus,” Pat says.

“Gotta say, this is why assumptions are bad,” Griffin observes.

“Oh, you thought scruffy over here wouldn’t take it up the ass?” Brian says.

“_Brian!_ ” Pat gasps, for all the world scandalized, as Brian and Griffin dissolve into cackling laughter.

“I mean, it’s true, he’s right,” Griffin confesses, once he’s pulled himself together. “That is what I thought.”

“Well. Fair enough,” Pat says, still a bit huffy. “I suppose it makes sense with the whole repressed-trying-to-be-straight narrative.”

“And then you let a cute twink of a forest spirit get at your ass. I get it,” Griffin says.

“Oh my god,” Pat sighs. “That is a gross oversimplification.”

“But not inaccurate!” Brian concedes. 

“It’s true, it’s pretty hard to keep shit internalized with this one,” Pat says, fondly running his fingers through Brian’s hair. “He knows all my fuckin’ tells. He goes all wide-eyed, like — “ he does a passable but still very bad impression of Brian’s voice — “‘oh Pat do you _really_ not wanna do this or is it just ‘cause you think you shouldn’t want to’ and every _fucking_ time he’s right on the money.”

“What can I say, I just get you,” Brian says cheerfully. “So Griffin,” he adds, turning to him. He gestures expansively at himself and Pat and the bed as a whole. “Thoughts?”

“Yeah, they are as follows: ‘yes,’ ‘please,’ and ‘now?’”

“Oh, _good_,” Brian says happily. “Pat, can I have Griffin fuck me?”

“I’m not the boss of you, baby,” Pat says, pulling Brian up so he can wrap his arms loosely around his waist. They’re both facing Griffin. “Ask him what he wants to do.”

“I will fuck whoever would like for me to fuck them,” Griffin says, standing to hang up his hoodie. He’s not, like, worried about them stealing his coat, actually; neither have shown an inclination towards wanting to, which means they won’t. The only people who’d want it would be people actively interested in taking advantage of Griffin. And he trusts these two. He’s just edgy about it, ‘cause he’s always been taught to be. Goddamn selkie magic. “Just tell me where to be,” he says, getting back into the bed.

“Nope, there’s a dress code in this bed, you are required to meet it before joining us,” Brian says. Griffin sighs and stands again and takes his jeans off. 

“Better?”

“Much. Pat already got to kiss you before so you get to kiss me,” Brian says, already reaching for Griffin, making grabby hands. Alright. He can work with this. Fuck yeah.

Brian’s lips are soft; his hands are gentle, and fall to rest at Griffin’s waist. He’s eager and wastes almost no time before getting tongue and teeth involved, which suits Griffin just fine.

Pat, suddenly, appears behind Griffin, one hand on top of Brian’s, the other on Griffin’s shoulder. “He likes it if you pull his hair,” Pat murmurs, close to Griffin’s ear. “Or grab his ass. Or, like, touch him at all anywhere. He’s needy.”

Brian makes a grouchy noise, but doesn’t break the kiss — instead, the sound breaks into a groan when Griffin gets a handful of his hair and twists, not too hard, but apparently enough. Brian wriggles around so he can get up real close to Griffin, kneeling in front of Griffin’s crossed legs. That seems a clear enough invitation; Griffin takes Pat’s other suggestion, to get a palmful of Brian’s ass, too. He squeezes and drags him closer, so he’s a little off-balance and leaning on Griffin.

Pat huffs a light laugh, still right up next to Griffin’s ear, his lips against his neck. “Hah, Brian, you like that?” Pat says. Griffin feels Pat shift, and then Brian moans and Griffin has to open his eyes so he doesn’t miss whatever’s happening. 

Pat’s hand is gently cupped over Brian’s dick over his boxer briefs; he rubs his thumb slooowly up the base of it, as Griffin watches. Brian is fully dumbstruck, slack-jawed, until Pat moves his hand away. He’s — god, his cock is straining against the fabric, it is such a sight.

“Can I touch?” Griffin says, and Brian nods. Griffin imitates Pat, and at the very first contact Brian gives another soft moan, his hips rocking forward against his hand. “God, you’re fucking hot as hell, Brian. How loud you think I can make him holler, Pat?”

“This man screeches like no one I’ve ever heard,” Pat says, pure affection in his voice.

“You’re gonna torture me,” Brian whines. “I’m only like that when you do.”

“Aww, is Pat mean to you, baby?” Griffin teases, overly solicitous, and kisses the corner of Brian’s pouting mouth. “I’d never be so cruel.” He is lying.

Brian gives Pat a dismayed look, and Griffin can’t help but laugh.

“I’ll save you from Pat, don’t worry. I’ll keep him occupied,” Griffin says, and Pat looks very pleased as Griffin tugs at his arm to get him to come over here and kiss him, please.

Oh, Pat has gotten _sneaky_, since getting with Brian. Griffin approves of it greatly. Pat stays just far enough away that Griffin has to come to him, which means that it’s way easier for Pat to sink back against the pillows and pull Griffin down on top of him, which means that he quite effectively jumps to the top of Griffin’s list of priorities.

Listen. Griffin’s a simple guy. He knows what he wants, and mostly what he wants is, uh. Well. This, actually. This very specific thing.

Pat traces his fingers over Griffin’s jaw, rests his hand at the back of Griffin’s head, holding him right exactly where he wants him. He kisses him sweet and slow and goddamn lascivious; he curls his tongue into Griffin’s mouth and rolls his hips and it is _a lot to handle_, from this guy who was so goddamn shy and nervous and hesitant the last time they kissed. It’s very _very_ good.

“If you’re gonna ignore me, at least give me something fun to watch,” Brian says. Griffin can hear him pouting, even without looking at him. Griffin blinks his eyes open just so he can give Brian a particularly (falsely) aggrieved side-eye, and then goes back to what he’s doing. This time, though, he shoves his hands up Pat’s shirt, pushing it up to his chest, and Pat gasps — probably mostly in surprise, honestly — and then retaliates in kind.

Brian presses his lips to the now-exposed skin of Griffin’s waist, which he is only just barely not ticklish about, and he figures he better delegate some stuff before they start warring over Griffin’s attention. Regretfully, he sits back — Pat leans up to chase after him, and makes a very sad little sound when he realizes Griffin’s paused on kissing him for the moment. Griffin soothingly pets at his hair to mollify him.

“I can’t kiss both of you at the same time, I’m sorry,” Griffin says. “And we’re not playing Griffin tug-of-war, here. I can only do so much. What d’you say we facilitate things and figure out how we wanna go about arranging this?”

Brian searches around in the blankets for a moment and then tosses Griffin a little bottle of lube; Griffin does not catch it even slightly and it bounces off his arm and lands on Pat’s chest.

“Ow,” Pat says.

“A gift,” Brian says. “You have to share, though. With me. You get Pat, because for one I like watching and for another I don’t have enough hands for both of us and Pat won’t finger himself, so.”

“Thank you for such a sensitive and nuanced discussion of my particularities,” Pat says with a sigh.

“You specifically told me it would be easier for you if I took the opportunity to say something, if one arose,” Brian says.

“Still embarrassing,” Pat grumbles. “You could be more delicate about it.” He doesn’t seem actually upset, though; mostly he’s just blushing.

“Sorry,” says Brian, and he does seem actually apologetic. 

“‘S okay,” Pat says, and reaches out to take Brian’s hand, press it to his own face. Brian strokes his thumb over Pat’s cheek. Pat glances at Griffin, who doesn’t mind at all needing to take things at whatever tempo Pat’s comfortable with, and says as much. “Oh, it’s not that so much,” Pat says. “I just, uh, usually kinda squick myself out about any of my anything in anyone’s ass. I may possibly still be known to get super in my head about some things. But if I don’t have to do it myself, I’m totally fine.”

“Now I understand your pragmatics,” Griffin says. He kisses Pat’s cheek. “I’m perfectly happy to do this for you. I like doing it.”

“I told you he was gonna be cool,” Brian says.

“Yeah, well,” Pat huffs, but has no further retort.

“Anything else I should know before we keep going?” Griffin says.

“Pat kicks,” Brian says. Pat groans and turns his face to hide it in Brian’s palm. Brian laughs. “It’s true, baby, I’m sorry. He’s almost kicked me in the face like five times now.”

“I can’t help it,” Pat whines. “Why don’t you have anything I can embarrass you with?”

“Can’t help it, I’m perfect,” Brian says, with a toss of his hair. Pat rolls his eyes.

“Alright, behave, both of you,” Griffin says. “Pat, clothes off, if you please.”

Pat scrambles to obey. Fuckin’ cutie. He is just as lovely naked, turns out; he’s built gracefully, much as he tries not to seem it, with the careful swoop of his ribs and delicate knobs of his spine and neat bones of his wrist. Griffin takes Pat’s hand in his and kisses his knuckles, which is the thing that makes Pat actually blush.

“Cute,” Griffin murmurs. “Lay back for me, baby?”

Pat settles, legs spread. Fuck, he is a pretty picture, laid out like this for Griffin. His cock is hard and leaking, his face flushed all the way to his chest, his hair loose around his face and his eyes heavy-lidded and intense.

“Griffin, take your clothes off first, too,” Brian says, whiny. Griffin sticks his tongue out him and shucks his shirt off and tries not to be a little self-conscious. Pat is skinny though not, like, extremely fit; he’s got nice arms but no real abs, and Brian is solid and muscled and not so bony, and, and Griffin shouldn’t be comparing himself to them, even if he’s got a soft belly and not a lot of muscle, the, no, not the worse of both worlds, he’s —

“God, Griff, you’re gorgeous,” Brian breathes, and it short-circuits the poor-self-esteem spiral abruptly, purely from surprise. “Fuck,” he adds, emphatically, and slides over to put his arms around Griffin. Griffin leans into the touch, closing his eyes for a moment, as Brian skims his hands over Griffin’s torso.

Pat’s mouth, then, is on Griffin’s neck, pressing slow kisses across his skin. Griffin blinks his eyes open to watch breathlessly as Pat gets his mouth on his nipple, biting gently, then pink tongue flicking out from between his teeth.

“You’re hot as hell,” Pat concurs, in a low voice that makes Griffin ache with desire. He sits up, leans in real close to Griffin’s ear, kisses the side of his neck, openmouthed and slow. “I want you inside me,” he whispers, like a secret, which straight-up knocks the breath out of Griffin. Brian reaches from behind him to gently stroke fingertips over Griffin’s cock; Griffin jerks up against the touch, moaning, and Brian gives a pleased hum.

“You heard the man,” Brian purrs, and releases Griffin.

Pat is a lot more eager, a lot more responsive, than Griffin would have predicted. He’s not shy about moaning and leaning into it when Griffin does something he likes. It is goddamn breathtaking. He writhes under Griffin’s touch — Brian is definitely not wrong, Pat does have a tendency to react with his whole body when something feels really good. He’s not quite as vocal as Brian, though, who may, possibly, perhaps, be hamming it up a little over there to get Griffin’s attention.

“Will you hold your horses,” Griffin huffs at Brian, and curls his fingers deep inside Pat. Pat moans, and Griffin leans forward to kiss his forehead. “Pat, baby, it’s gonna be your turn to be patient now, alright?”

Pat just sort of whimpers in response, as Griffin withdraws his fingers. Griffin kisses him again, before getting up to wash his hands.

When he returns to the bedroom, Brian and Pat are making out with the desperation of dying men, as if they're each other's lifelines. Pat’s hands are in Brian’s hair; Brian’s fingers are digging into Pat’s lower back. Griffin clears his throat and they don’t even pause. Brian just grabs Pat harder, and Pat pulls Brian closer against him, tilting Brian’s chin up.

They’re gorgeous together. Griffin could watch them all night.

But he can do much more than that. He hops back up on the bed and puts his arms around Brian’s waist and pulls him away from Pat. Pat makes a strangled noise of despair, and doesn’t even have the wherewithal to look embarrassed by it. Instead, he watches wide-eyed as Brian turns to face Griffin. Griffin has little more opportunity to take this in before Brian kisses him.

Brian is breathing hard already. He goes easily as Griffin pushes him around to get him where he wants him. Pat still seems a bit stunned, but he is so dang attuned to Brian that he mirrors him as he settles against the pillows. Griffin catches Pat’s hand and squeezes it, and before he can let go Brian yanks Griffin down to kiss him, hard and sloppy and desperate. He nearly loses his balance, but catches himself before he can fall and knock the wind out of both of them.

Brian’s fervent kisses pause for him to catch his breath, and Griffin takes the opportunity to press his parted lips to the side of his neck.

“Can I suck your dick?” Griffin murmurs. 

“Please,” Brian gasps.

Griffin slides down Brian’s body, leaving a trail of kisses as he goes. He takes a moment to marvel at him, his lithe agile body, his flushed face, his hard cock.

Griffin takes the head of his cock in his mouth and Brian moans, wordlessly appreciative. Griffin, encouraged, teases at his entrance with a finger, and his response pitches up in tone, from wanting to _needy_, and Griffin sits back to smirk at him, and also to track down the lube.

He comes back with his mouth and his fingers at the same time; he’s done well, Griffin can push two fingers into him, easy, as he mouths at his cock. Brian gasps out a string of curses and puts his hand on Griffin’s head —

“Don’t,” Griffin says, pulling off, “if you might pull even accidentally just don’t, grab Pat instead.”

“Sorry,” Brian says, a little breathy, blinking in surprise.

“You’re good. Just didn’t want it to break bad. Hate how it feels, personally. Anyway.” He punctuates that by dragging his tongue up the side of Brian’s cock, which draws another of those lovely sounds from him.

He works him with mouth and hands, deliberate and devastating, finding where it is inside him that makes him react with his whole body, where he can apply his mouth to make him moan and curse and gasp Griffin’s name, what he can do to make him curl off the bed and —

“Oh — _oh oh oh Griffin_ — fuck, I — I’m gonna — _Griffin_ —”

That’s all the warning he gets before Brian abruptly jerks up against him, cries out as he comes into Griffin’s mouth.

Brian’s panting as Griffin pulls back, gasps out in a breathless rush, “Shit I’m so so sorry I didn’t mean to come before — it just felt so good —”

“It’s okay,” Griffin says soothingly, patting him on the thigh, “I’ll rim you next time and fuck the daylights out of you to boot.” Pauses, winces. “If, uh. If there is a next time, that is.”

“_Fuck_ yes,” Brian says; Pat nods, too. He’s all wide-eyed breathless arousal and oh it is good, Griffin can’t wait to get his hands on him. But before he can, Brian pushes himself up and tugs Griffin into a kiss, slow and filthy, tasting himself in his mouth. He can hear the sharp breath Pat takes, and can imagine quite clearly the look on his face, the overwhelmed-awed look that Griffin’s seen more in the past hour than he’d ever imagined he’d see in his life.

“Sorry for coming in your mouth without asking first,” Brian murmurs against Griffin’s lips. “It, uh, it kinda snuck up on me.”

“You’re totally fine, babe, promise,” Griffin says, and kisses him again for emphasis. “I’m very fucking into it. You good?”

“Mhm.”

“Let me pay some attention to your poor boyfriend, then, sounds like he’s fuckin’ perishing over there. You want my cock, baby boy?” Griffin says, blasé, meaning more to tease than anything, but Pat’s eyes widen and he makes this soft punched-out desperate sound and he nods. He goes easily as Griffin nudges him to lay back, let Griffin between his legs.

Griffin, because he is an asshole who loves to tease, strokes the very gentlest of fingertips over Pat’s cock. Pat gives a full-body shudder and gasps for air like he’s fucking dying. He never, not _ever_, thought it would be like this with Pat, didn’t think he’d get him spread out under him on the verge of begging, see him aching and desperate and beautiful and needy. He’d expected — well, he’s not totally sure what he expected. A power struggle, maybe. Double-teaming Brian, or something. But this is even better than he could’ve imagined.

“Sweetheart, tell me what you need,” Griffin murmurs, with a gentle kiss to the corner of Pat’s mouth. “Any way you like it, honey, I’ve got you.”

“Tell us true, Griffin, how d’you feel about the term _daddy?”_ Brian says, and Griffin doesn’t even have to look at him to feel the smugness radiating from him.

“_Brian_,” Pat hisses, turns his head to glare at Brian, but Griffin catches him, cups his face in his hand, keeps Pat facing him.

“Do you like that, Patrick?” Griffin says. “Do you want to call me daddy?” The little gasp, the twitch of his body, is telling. “That it, baby boy? You want it like that?”

“Please,” Pat says, breathy, fervent.

“Gonna need you to say it first, then, sweetheart.”

Pat reaches out for Griffin, catches him by the arm, likely as anything just for something to hang on to. “Please, please fuck me, daddy,” he says, breathless, “I need you.”

Griffin kisses him, rough and desperate, and Pat responds with the single most pornographic-sounding moan that Griffin has ever heard in his _life_. He wraps his arms around Griffin’s neck and holds him against him, kisses him with too much tongue and teeth, or at least it would be if Griffin wasn’t too far gone for finesse too. Brian taps Griffin on the shoulder and Griffin opens his eyes to look at him, pausing with his lips still parted against Pat’s. Brian offers him the bottle of lube and Griffin can’t help but laugh, so serious is Brian’s expression, and he breaks into a smile too.

Pat’s fingers dig into Griffin’s back as he presses into him, cautiously slow. His thighs are shaking; his eyes are closed and his mouth open; he is _beautiful_.

Griffin tells him so, and he turns his head shyly, before Griffin turns it back.

“Look at me, baby boy,” Griffin says. Pat’s eyes blink open, dark behind heavy eyelashes. “You’re fucking _perfect_. Does it feel good?”

“So good, daddy,” Pat says softly, almost reverent.

“Good boy. You’re doing such a good job, honey, you’ve been so patient.” He kisses him, strokes his fingers over the scruff of his beard. “You ready for me? Want daddy to fuck you up real good?”

Pat’s grip tightens on Griffin. “_Please_.”

Brian clears his throat. “Pro tip, pull his hair, Griff. Hard as you’d like, I think. He likes it to _hurt_, and he’s so pretty when he takes it.”

Griffin hums in appreciative acknowledgement and rocks his hips experimentally. “God, baby, you feel so good,” he murmurs, threading his fingers into Pat’s hair.

Pat writhes under him, trying to take more of him, to get him to move. “Give it to me, daddy, fuck, _please_, I can take it please, _please_ —”

Griffin yanks on his hair, pulling his head back, gets his mouth on Pat’s neck as he thrusts into him hard, setting a brutal pace, and Pat wails, a sound he’d _never_ thought he’d hear from this man. Pat arches up off the bed and clings to Griffin and _fuck_, it’s incredible, it’s like he’s broken some wall down and now Pat’s openly moaning, whining, past words but not past sound, as Griffin takes him desperate, fast, rough. Every time Griffin tugs on his hair he reacts. When Griffin gets it just right, finds the angle to really just nail him, he makes a sound like he’s fucking _dying_, digs his nails into the backs of Griffin’s shoulders and half-sobs, tries to beg him for more but just sutters on the first syllable of _please_ until he breaks off into a gasp when Griffin gets a hand around his cock.

“Griffin — _fuck_ — I — I — please —”

Griffin bites Pat’s earlobe. “Tell me what you want, baby boy,” he growls, grateful his voice doesn’t break.

“Make me come, daddy, please, god, _please_, I n — I _need_ — please daddy oh _god_ —”

It’s fucking _amazing_, to watch him come. Griffin pulls his head back so he can watch his face; his eyes are squeezed shut and his eyebrows drawn and his lips parted and, and, and —

He gasps against Pat’s neck as he comes, follows him over the edge in tandem, muffling the way he cries out against his skin.

Pat strokes his thumb over the ridges of Griffin’s spine as they catch their breath, as Griffin lays against Pat’s chest, panting.

“Jesus,” Griffin says, breathlessly, “fuck, Patrick, I did _not_ think you had that in you.”

“I contain multitudes,” Pat says, pushing his hair out of his face.

“And also a daddy kink a mile wide,” Brian says cheerfully. “That was hot as _hell_, guys.”

“Glad you enjoyed the show,” Griffin says, glib.

“Brian’s out here sharing all my secrets,” Pat huffs, putting his arms loosely around the small of Griffin’s back.

“Are you upset?” Brian says, with genuine concern.

“No. I think it, uh, really made the experience.”

“I’d never judge you for what you’re into,” Griffin says, and kisses Pat’s cheek. “Also: it’s fuckin’ hot, baby boy.”

Pat groans. “I’m never gonna live this down, am I?”

“I’ll behave, promise,” Griffin says. “Exclusively for the bedroom unless you tell me otherwise.”

“Thank god,” Pat says, and gently bumps his forehead against Griffin’s.

“Yeah, no, I’m not an _asshole_. Wait,” Griffin says, suddenly realizing something fucking incredible. “Hold up. Bri? Are _you_ Pat’s daddy when I’m not here?”

“Who the fuck else would it be? Yeah, babe, I’m always his daddy.” A smug little smirk. Brian scoots over to run his fingers through Pat’s hair. Pat narrows his eyes at him. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Fuck you,” Pat says, with no heat to it whatsoever, leaning into Brian’s touch and closing his eyes for a moment in contentment.

“Not a very nice way to speak to your man, Patrick,” Griffin says, and Pat turns his glare on Griffin. He can see, though, the corners of his mouth twitching, trying to keep himself from smiling.

“Alright, you two, quit fuckin’ teasing, no more daddy shit for tonight. Don’t get me wrong: it was great while it happened, I’m just not in that headspace anymore.”

“Okay. Thank you for telling us,” Brian says, and kisses Pat’s forehead. Pat leans into the touch, smiling. “What do you say we clean up, and then put on a movie and cuddle? Griffin, you are, of course, invited.”

“I would hope so, I just fucked both of you,” Griffin teases. “But Pat, if you make me watch one more martial arts movie I’m gonna leave.”

“Oh, fuck both of you, you’re gonna make me watch a musical, aren’t you?”

“You love it,” Brian says.

Pat sighs deeply, world-weary. It is very convincing. “I really do,” he confesses.

“You dorks,” Griffin says. “Bein’ all in love and shit.”

Brian plants a loud smack of a kiss on Pat’s lips, defiantly as anyone could possibly kiss another person. “I love you, Pat,” he proclaims, with drama.

“I love you too, Brian,” Pat mumbles, tugging him closer to push his face into Brian’s hair. “Cuddle me?”

“Nonono, no you don’t,” Griffin says, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “I have all everyone’s fuckin’ jizz on me, I’m using your fucking shower and you both are too, ‘cause I’m not cuddling with your sweaty asses once I’m clean.”

“Ugh, goddammit, someone who takes initiative,” Brian complains, and sits up too, pulling at Pat’s arm until he groans and follows them.

“Oh, so sad, I’m not gonna let you glue your ass to the sheets,” Griffin says, standing. Pat scoots to the edge of the bed and wraps his arms around Griffin, presses a kiss to his back and rests his face against him. “Patrick, c’mon, you snuggly motherfucker, give it twenty minutes and you’ll get all the cuddling you could ever want.”

Pat sighs, dramatically put-upon, but stands. He kisses Griffin’s cheek, as Brian goes past them and grandly gestures to the door, the action made infinitely more comical by his nudity.

“You guys are such dorks,” Griffin sighs, fondly.

“So are you,” Brian says, and steals a kiss. “Let’s go shower, sweaty.”

“I _hate_ you,” Griffin groans, and follows.

**Author's Note:**

> someday ill write something without someone calling someone else daddy but that day is not today  
also i cant believe i managed to write something from the pov of a top for once in my life fhdsgnkjdfs
> 
> twitter @segmentcalled / comment if you req / comments moderated and deleted as requested  
comments and kudos are what keep the writing coming t b h! love you guys!


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